


The Bad Sleep Well -8- Attention

by sharkcar



Series: The Bad Sleep Well [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:44:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22104616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkcar/pseuds/sharkcar
Summary: An imagining of the lives of clones after the Clone Wars. Just some simple men, making their ways in the universe, in all their tragicomic glory.1- Assembled Crowd- The Rishi clone colony searches for answers in the wake of a terrorist attack2- Captive Audience- Rex brings friends home to meet his family3- A Word Privately- Wolffe and the police have a disagreement
Relationships: CC-5576-39 | Gregor & CC-3636 | Wolffe, CT-7567 | Rex & CC-3636 | Wolffe
Series: The Bad Sleep Well [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1334464
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Assembled Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody and the Rishi colonists are reeling from the bombing.

Rishi  
  
The scene switched from a celebration to evacuation and rescue mode. There was little chaos and confusion, people lined up quickly, just as they had learned from practice. Exactly according to colony training protocols. The Civic Guard always wore armor and carried shields. They formed a perimeter to preserve evidence. The paramedics always carried their kits in case of incident, they attended to the injured and got them ready to be transferred to the hospital. The firefighting corps had been on site with water carriers, they unfolded their equipment and got the blaze put out.  
  
It was an easy transition from spectators to professionals. Clones were accustomed to life and duty intersecting. Most of the populace had grown up receiving the same military training and ordered routine that the Kamino cloning facility had provided. They took a lot of behaviors for granted. Like setting up emergency protocols and regular drills and having clearly defined roles. Military style training in the colony was mandated for everyone, appropriate to age level, regardless of status. Even babies and the very old were able to get used to hiding in bunkers. Even people who didn’t want to fight could learn how to administer emergency medicine. Preparation saved lives.  
  
Cody searched the crowd for his wife. Lina had already joined the paramedics corps, of which she was a member, and begun tending to the wounded. Her ceremony dress was bloody and torn. Their children were comforting younglings who were crying from the shock. All the public attention rallied around his family, Cody was able to join the Guard as they cleared the scene.  
  
The guard captain, a Weequay female, reported to him, saluting. “The two Guards dead sir, looks like forty-five wounded at last count.”  
  
Ambulances arrived and the queen led an orderly move to the hospital. The medical facility was heavily guarded and defended because it was the most valuable asset in the colony. Protocols were that in times of crisis, all non-fighters were moved indoors, but the queen wouldn’t be seen as running to hide, just doing her job.  
  
“What was it this time?” Cody asked looking in the direction of the burning debris.  
  
The colony had seen violence before. Mostly from rival crime lords. Such threats had always been immediately and appropriately dealt with. Hunted down and destroyed to the last. But homeland attacks were rare since their city’s location was hidden. Pirates in the region could not rival the DQA’s level of organization and experience. It had been a long while since anyone had dared to hit at them.  
  
The Guardsmen sifted through wreckage of the statue and bandstand conducting an intensive ground survey around the blast site.  
  
The guard captain continued to address him formally, “Unsure yet, sir.”  
  
As Chief of Security for the colony, emergency laws were under effect, Cody was the unquestioned authority  
  
Niki was suddenly at Cody’s shoulder, her ceremony dress somehow clean and sparkling. At first sense of danger, thirty brothers had probably thrown themselves between her and the blast just for the privilege of saving her life.  
  
“Who was it?” she looked thirsty for blood. “Our perimeter is seamless! Nobody’s spotted an outsider.” It was hard to hide in their colony.  
  
“You’re already jumping ahead. Is everyone alright? Where is Sotna?” Cody asked.  
  
Blue showed up, he could always tell when Cody needed help. “Lucky for you, I got your back.”  
  
Niki squinted, “How is anyone lucky? We’ve just had a bombing.” She looked like she could scratch his eyes out, “My jet organist got his fingers blown off for kark’s sake!”  
  
“I bet the kids will solve this right up. They’ve been keeping an eye on everyone coming and going all day,” Blue defended.  
  
“You told my children to stalk people?” Cody looked around, glad his wife hadn’t heard.  
  
“Well, it started out as a game for practice. How to notice details and such. How to be a good and credible witness, teach citizen vigilance. I didn’t know this would happen. But I’m sure they’ll solve this right up,” Blue gave a little nod, proud of himself. “You can take my official statement straight off.”  
  
–  
  
Cody sent two Guardsmen to find Sotna.  
  
Niki turned on her recorder, “Blue, you’re aware of your rights?”  
  
“Come on, woman! I helped write the damn code,” Blue grumbled at her. “My whereabouts can be accounted for.” He spoke to Cody, which mildly angered Niki.  
  
Niki had always found it dismissive when men spoke to each other like she wasn’t there. But she understood clones had a real deficiency there, so she often let it go. Clones had always been terrified or enamored with her, mostly both at the same time. She probably could have found a middle ground. Acted less fearsome, dressed less provocatively. It certainly would have made her life easier. But kark that.  
  
“Yesterday morning, we were cleaning out the bantha barns up Cody’s, since the park down here was being cleared for a security scan. So I know the place was clean, you can check the Guard records. Dimey commed me to say they were ready to admit us at sixteen hundred. Me and the new guys packed up the stuff with the kids and we arrived at the park five clicks past sun high, I was driving the transport with food and equipment. The kids were in the flatbed that we were towing.”  
  
“No seatbelts?” Cody fretted.  
  
Blue was enjoying it, “All the kids from the village were there in their uniforms, they all had their kitpacks and they were singing, it was cute. They were doing that one about Palpatine’s big ol’butt. So we get to the park and the kids put the wooden stage together in no time. I went to direct the new guys in how to set up the paramedics’ tents. What a useless crop. All they want to do is stand around asking questions about this or that while I do all the work. They’re all able bodied, they’re just lazy, ugh, Stormtroopers.”  
  
Blue had been a Stormtrooper after the war, but he tended to use the term to mean ‘clones younger than me’. He wasn’t one very long anyway, as he was arrested for drug dealing and the Empire sent him to prison.  
  
Cody sighed, he didn’t have time for Blue’s complaining. “Did any of them leave your sight at any time?” Cody asked.  
  
“Only to visit the refresher,” Blue told them, “But I’m pretty sure the kids were watching them then too, since I asked them to make sure guys weren’t just hanging out in there.”  
  
“You told my children to follow adults into the toilet,” Cody cocked an eyebrow.  
  
“No, the kids took turns using the toilet to keep it manned like a stakeout. Make sure nobody was trying to get out of working. Cody your boys had a scheme that if anyone came in they would pretend they would make gross fart noises in the next stall over to encourage them to leave before the stench spread.”  
  
Cody did his best not to laugh.  
  
“We cleaned up the park this morning before the ceremony and everything was packed and put on the palettes. The grass was trimmed, there was nowhere to hide anything that we didn’t search.”  
  
“Can we confirm nothing was missed?” Niki asked.  
  
“When was the dias installed?’ Cody asked.  
  
“The kids could answer, they set up furniture, the dias and the chairs. Cleaned up and did the inventory, you can check their personal devices, everything will be in order. We were right on schedule.” Blue looked proud when Niki nodded approvingly. He’d finally done something right.  
  
“Schedule….,” Cody wondered, out of the blue.  
  
His brother Blue knew just what he was thinking. They were essentially identical twins, clones knew how to follow one another’s train of thought better than most beings ever could. “External detonator or timer?” Blue nodded, speaking to Cody.  
  
“Had anyone seen the programs before the event?” Cody turned and made eye contact with Niki.  
  
“The ones we printed were only delivered this morning,” Blue informed Cody. “The kids and I distributed them around the site.”  
  
Cody looked at Niki again, “And the program said the queen was supposed to be speaking?”  
  
Niki never seemed to have it in her to be impressed with him, “Yessss, she had ceded her time because her children’s favorite band would play a song. She thought that would be a much better tribute than another boring speech.”  
  
“Is that a crack at me?” Cody asked.  
  
She had sounded annoyed as she said it and he couldn’t figure out why she would be.  
  
“Not everything is about you!” Niki disapproved.  
  
The guard captain called over to Cody. “We’ve found something!”  
  
They all came over to get a look at a piece of shrapnel lodged in a fragment of the dias. 

  


–  
  
Cody, Niki, and Blue proceeded to the hospital to find the kids. The hospital director, Dr. Marvelous was in surgery, cheerfully reattaching fingers. Niki went in to get a prognosis.  
  
There were a lot of people around helping with the relief effort, acting as runners for the paramedics and unloading supplies. For clones and their children, those with the genetic stamp of the Fett template, the serum was administered and the parts would heal fine.  
  
Not so for the dead brothers. Dead was dead.  
  
For the others, the medicine administered was much better than most of what one found in the Outer Rim by every statistical measure. Their infant mortality rates were close to none, Cody liked to brag.  
  
Lina had changed into her paramedic uniform, white outfit, red hair veil. Her guard droid, Otis, was following behind. “Do we know who it was?” she looked at Cody. Everyone else in the crowded room was looking at them too.  
  
Too many people, they didn’t know who was listening. They didn’t know how many people were in on the conspiracy.  
  
Blue played his part, “We have no idea, yet. But we’ll get to the bottom of this. We just need all witness accounts.”  
  
No one else was watching him, but Cody’s face told Lina they did. He needed to keep her in a safe location. The assassin might try again.  
  
“I understand. Alright, I voluntarily submit to questioning, but if you have to question my children I have to be there. Just in case they need me.” Lina played the dutiful mother and citizen.  
  
Cody found it amusing how opposite this was to how she’d dealt with police back on Coruscant.  
  
Everyone in the room was watching the situation, as the actors in the little governmental play were well aware. Balance had to be maintained, panic had to be avoided. They had to appear to have everything under control. 

  


–  
  
They made their way to a secured room in the hospital to examine the evidence. Shizla was there waiting.  
  
Cody began to fill the Queen in on the situation. “The natural thing everyone suspects is outsiders again. We could just say that and everyone will believe it and we’ll all feel justified about the next gang leader we have to take a piece out of.”  
  
“But that’s not what’s happened?” Lina’s face looked tired. “What was it?” the Queen looked at the fragment of wood, which they had on a table on a silk cloth. They gave it the hushed reverence of a religious artifact.  
  
“Standard Stormtrooper issue detonator, manufacture date last month,” Shizla pulled a scope over so Lina could look at the microscopic writing on the shining piece of metal lodged in the wood.  
  
“It was under the dias the whole time you were speaking,” Lina’s eyes widened dramatically. “You could have been killed.”  
  
She embraced him and Cody’s heart melted. It was still a relatively new experience for him having someone who wanted him alive.  
  
“Ain’t no thing, we clones aren’t scared of being around explosives. Detonators are like our shower loofahs,” Blue bragged.  
  
“A recent manufacture date. So one of the new guys,” Shizla crossed her arms. “Sotna logged the inventory from the mission where you found those guys, one of them must have held something back from his personal equipment. Intentionally, all the way back then. Security was too tight to get back out of here, so he had a little exit strategy. He’s trying to get back to somebody, tell them what he’s seen. It proves somebody knows the kind of people we’ve been recruiting. I’ve just never seen anyone send a clone before.” There was no question that the suspect worked for someone. There was no clone in the galaxy who would have given up a chance to return to their own, unless someone else had promised something more compelling than the ties of family.  
  
With clones those ties were particularly strong. And clones were largely seen as so useless that people usually didn’t try. Cody had turned these things into his people’s strength. Now someone was trying to upend their strategy.  
  
“In any case, he has been sent here to hurt us,” Cody gave his conclusion. The fragment had been analyzed and his hunch on the timer had been correct.  
  
Shizla reported, “Niner is already headed to the Guard station with them. He thinks we need his help with searches, so we told him to bring his entourage. He asked that Sotna be there.”  
  
“Where is she?” Lina asked.  
  
Cody commed the guards. 

  


–

  


“We supervised cleanup the morning of the ceremony, since we had to wait for daylight so we could see the shrapnel from the fireworks,” Briikasar told her aunties and uncles. “Uncle Blue made us clean up every scrap, he wanted that lawn around the stage perfect. Since we’d done all the hard work, we didn’t want everything all messed up. So the kids formed a perimeter around the stage until the Guardsmen arrived. So nobody got in after that, right?” Brii looked at her siblings.  
  
The children were all in the hospital nursery, attended by their mothers, aunties, and several droids. It was a fun place, things to climb, trampolines, pedaling toys, soft mats.  
  
Briikasar and Nau had assembled their Civic Scout troop for inspection when the Queen arrived. Their daddies had taught the children how to line up for an inspection.  
  
Cody and Lina’s twins had begun their briefing, once their Uncle Blue had explained that questioning would be official.  
  
Upon the moment of her birth, Lina’s people had anointed her daughters as symbols of hope for the future. It was hard for the sentimental clones to contain their joy that such a thing as having children was possible. Even basic human rights had been denied them for so long. The queen’s daughters had never had any problem speaking up to adults, since they were given attention.  
  
Nau nodded, “It was just us kids and Uncle Blue and the new guys in the perimeter. Everything was pristine.” Nau gestured with a feminine panache that was downright dramatic. She always talked down to adults as if they were stupid.  
  
Shizla kept the questioning focused, “Was there a lot of activity around?”  
  
Nau remembered, “People were coming early in the morning to try to sneak a look at the statue, or drop off food. The only thing we were allowed was one pack to hold our lunch and water while we were on guard duty.”  
  
Blue automatically asked, “Do we have all packs accounted for?”  
  
Lina looked up, “This would have been a small string bag? Someone could have hidden it in the dias and it wouldn’t have looked out of place.”  
  
“Atin,” Nau’s eyes grew wide as she looked at her little brother. The middle triplet squirmed uncomfortably like he might start to cry. He was only five years old. “You said you’d misplaced your bag.”  
  
Brii knelt down in front of her brother as he stood dutifully in line, “Who did this? Tell us.”  
  
Atin recovered as he attempted to imitate his sister’s serious expression, “I was trying to guard, but a lot of people came around to talk to me.”  
  
Brii kept her tone even, “Do you remember who?”  
  
Atin was still paralyzed with fear over what he’d seen.  
  
Brii looked him in the eyes, “Atin...we’re not mad. Remembering is important.”  
  
He took a deep breath. “Uncle Buryn, Auntie Zheela, but I was just talking...”  
  
“Did anyone have your pack?” Nau asked.  
  
“No,” Atin sniffed. Dangerously close to crying at the interrogation. Lina glared at her daughter.  
  
Nau nodded and comforted her brother with a hug, “You did great.”  
  
Queen Lina told her husband, “I’ll talk to him. He won’t remember anything if we stress him out too much. We’ll just stay here,” she looked directly at her husband, “where it’s safe.”  
  
“I’ll station the guards,” Shizla walked out casually to round up some of her geezers.  
  
Otis the guard droid sat down in a chair. Junior climbed in its lap.  
  
\--  
  
Niki, Cody, and Blue left the hospital in Blue’s speeder. Niki tried again to raise Sotna on the comlink. The look on her face grew concerned.  
  
They arrived at the Guard station.  
  
Niner was at the entrance, “Where is Sotna?”  
  
“She’s not here with you?” Cody asked.  
  
Niner shook his head, “I haven’t seen her since before...”  
  
Finally, Niki activated her secure device to identify Sotna’s exact location. She didn’t use it often, since she didn’t want to invade her daughter’s privacy, but this was an emergency.  
  
Lina suddenly arrived with the children, driven in a covered vehicle. She held Atin’s hand, “Cody, we know...Atin remembered! But he needs to see.”  
  
“He asked for my pack so he could have a sip of water,” Atin had regained his confidence with all the attention, “I said yes, if he could watch my post while I had a pee, I really needed to go. But I never saw my pack after I came back.”  
  
Guardsmen came out of the station.  
  
Citizens were starting to gather around.  
  
“It was one of the new guys, I don’t know all their names yet,” Atin explained his former reticence. It had embarrassed him that he didn’t remember the names.  
  
Sotna arrived, the two guardsmen that went looking for her in tow, leading Fiver, who was short one ear.  
  
“Him!” Atin shouted, pointing.  
  
The citizenry and guards all collectively gasped.  
  
“There is something you need to see,” Sotna told Cody ushering him inside.  
  
–

  


Fiver had received some medical attention and some serum. The ear was as good as new. He wouldn’t even have a scar. Not that it would matter, but hospitality dictated that they not mistreat their prisoner while the facts were being presented.  
  
–  
  
The children were taken back to the hospital nursery. Emergency curfew still in effect until the next day, but Cody had reassured the citizens over the general com channels that everything was fine. He promised an explanation in the morning.  
  
Rumors flew around the colony of what some had seen. One of the new guys arrested. The Queen’s son had identified him. Atin hadn’t understood what all the adults were talking about after, but he’d told the truth and his daddy told him that was important, but asked him to wait a little before he told everyone else. But of course he told his siblings, who began to tell everyone else. It was a narrative that made people proud.  
  
–  
  
Sotna assembled her mother, Blue, Lina and Cody in a secure office in the Civic Guard station.  
  
Sotna hugged her mother tightly, “You’re okay! I was so worried when I heard the explosion!”  
  
Niki hugged back and gave a few strokes to her lekku, “I’m fine.”  
  
Sotna briefed those assembled. “I was on my way to show you, when I found him and I knew I couldn’t just let him leave, using the ceremony as a distraction. So I tried to pretend I needed his help with inventorying camping equipment. I confronted him with what I knew. He tried to take me hostage. I played like I was afraid until he got close enough and I activated my headdress.” It was one of those kind that sheared through skin when a current was activated from a ring.  
  
Sotna turned back and addressed Cody, “I’m sorry I wasn’t in time to stop the bomb.”  
  
It amused Niki that her daughter spoke in such a jang dialect. It had infested her pronunciation of Twi’leki at times, which Niki made fun of about as often as Sotna mocked her for her heavy Ryloth accent.  
  
Sotna called up his record from Fiver’s wrist chip on a holoviewer.  
  
Lina slapped her forehead, “Cody, we both heard him say it, he was 501st. Remember? I asked him later when he joined, he said it wasn’t until after the war, that he was in the 4th until then. But he had asked if Rex was here?”  
  
“He asked if the rumors were true,” Sotna corrected. “Where would he have heard that the Captain was even alive?”  
  
Lina nodded, “Yes. It sounded a little funny, the way he said it. As if he was looking for a reason to bring it up.”  
  
Sotna had noticed that too.  
  
Fiver’s first night in the colony. Cody and Lina had been distracted at the time.  
  
Luckily for them, Sotna had been there. She’d trusted her instincts, “I thought it sounded like a slip up, it just sounded like he was covering for a lie. So I had Niner take his record. He was there Cody, there before Order 66.”  
  
Cody had always professed to his closest associates that he was interested in figuring out what had happened during the Order, particularly with the 501st on Coruscant.  
  
“If he hadn’t lied, he could have helped you, you are always looking for information about what happened to Skywalker. He might have seen something. But he deliberately denied knowing. Where did he come from? What does he know?”  
  
“We need to interrogate him,” Lina decided, “He’s not talking and we need to know who sent him and why?”  
  
“What difference does it make? The message is the same. Of course it’s the Empire. It’s always the Empire. Those gangs get their weapons directly from the Sheevies. They’ll keep messing with us like this until something’s successful. It’s cheap and they have tons of resources and time on their side,” Blue did his best to articulate what he thought Cody would say. It would justify his continuous antagonizing of the most powerful military entity in the galaxy.  
  
“But why would a clone side with the Empire against you?” Lina shook her head in disbelief at her husband.  
  
Niki instantly said, “Money.”  
  
Blue remembered, “He said he was 501st...Cody do they still blame you for Umbara? Maybe he was radicalized, or, you know, programmed.”  
  
Lina lowered her eyebrows. She’d lived in the Jedi Temple district during the Purge. The 501st had marched in and burned the Temple, which took a good chunk of the neighborhood with it.  
  
Cody knew this guy was one of the few 501st clones not slaughtered at the Battle of the Jedi Temple. Actual witnesses to that event were nearly non-existent.  
  
“That is the key to understanding what happened. I just feel it. Cody, let me talk to him. As a witness, I might be able to see if he’s telling the truth,” the Queen asked.  
  
“Okay,” he relented against his better judgment, “but I’m going with you.”  
  
\--  
  
Interrogation Room  
  
Fiver had not tried to deny it. He had been mostly quiet.  
  
Lina sat across from him, Cody stood at her shoulder.  
  
“So you were with the 501st?” Lina wasn’t afraid of clones. Not even the ones who had tried to kill her.  
  
“From about the third year of the war. I was recruited right after Ringo Vinda,” Fiver revealed. No sense lying, his wrist chip had been scanned when he was brought to the guard station.  
  
Cody remembered what happened on that mission. It was highly classified, but he’d heard an account from Rex himself. Rex changed after that.  
  
“I remember it was tough serving among the enbees after war’s end,” Cody recalled sincerely. Clones were always more comfortable talking to their own kind. So much of their own communication involved facial cues. Other beings didn’t provide this kind of nuance.  
  
“Eh. What unit doesn’t have friction?” Fiver looked impassive. “It puts a charge in the air, makes you grow and change as you deal with it. Brothers are very adaptable.”  
  
“So you fit in,” Cody smirked. He’d been accused of that constantly when he worked for the Empire. Fitting in with the natural born Imperials, not being clone enough, forgetting his heritage, acting servile. No one would have questioned his ambition if he’d been born naturally. He knew how much it could hurt to be thought of that way by one’s own family.  
  
“Hey, what can I say? I was known as a guy who knew the ropes, the enbee Stormtroopers looked up to me. Lord Vader knew I was one hundred percent behind the new order of things,” Fiver bragged.  
  
501st guys were always terrible braggarts, Cody remembered.  
  
“So how does a guy like you get sent to Lahsbane?” Cody asked.  
  
“Politics. It’s all politics.” Fiver shrugged. “The natural born Stormtroopers had it in for me because they knew Lord Vader listened to me.”  
  
“He chose to believe them? So you decided to come here?” Lina sounded like she’d be genuinely hurt to find out Niner wasn’t tricked. She would have rather believed the narrative that her brother in law had been led astray. Or that he was delusional.  
  
“To show your loyalty to him,” Cody kept his tone even. “Did he order you here to attempt the assassination or were you just opportunistic?”  
  
Cody was reminded of Sergeant Slick. A dark Force wielder had tempted him with promises if he’d betray secrets that he knew full well would get his clone brothers killed. Slick had admitted it wasn’t about the money. The promises were about the one thing clones always felt like they never had, power.  
  
They’d been in the field and could not afford to keep prisoners. Cody had set up a firing squad of Slick’s peers, but had only loaded his own blaster with live rounds. Cody changed after that. He’d started drinking for one thing.  
  
“Lord Vader didn’t have to say anything to make an offer, did he?” Lina asked pointedly.  
  
Fiver somehow changed, his eyes looked suddenly red. Then he stared with open eyes and began to speak in a monotone that was macabre, “You have no idea what he’s capable of. He promised me things, not in words, but by doing them.”  
  
Religious fanatics were easy for Lina to talk to. She said she’d been dealing with them her whole life. Her mom for one. She knew all the standard claims. Lina looked him in the dead eyes, “Doing them?”  
  
Fiver gazed back, “By making them happen. A red mist spread over my dream, coming on like a flame of fire! And then he parted it, and I could see that there were thousands of men, with their eyes blazing red, like his, only smaller. Then he held up his hand, and they all stopped, and I thought he seemed to be saying, ‘Power! All these to command, all these will I give you! If you will obey me!’”  
  
“What does he want?” Lina never broke the gaze.  
  
“To kill you, of course.” Fiver said somewhat childishly, “There was only one way to do things that is tolerable. You’re a perversion. One way or another, he will bury you.”  
  
“You honestly thought you’d get out of here alive and back to him?” Lina asked sadly. It was strangely threatening. Like she was already mourning.  
  
Cody knew with Fiver, as with Slick, too, he made his own choice initially. For himself.  
  
Reasons matter. He wasn’t led astray, he believed what he wanted. It wasn’t mind control, it was seduction.  
  
“I don’t need to get out,” Fiver shook his head slowly, “There’s nothing you can do to me. He knows how to bring people back to life. He has done it before. He says he only needs to be strong enough. As long as you are loyal to him and feed his strength, he will raise you.”  
  
“If anyone had such a power, why not use it for everyone?” Lina didn’t understand why people used power the way they did most of the time.  
  
“Not everyone deserves to live on,” Fiver monotoned. “Those of us that believe in him will be chosen.”  
  
“Have you seen him resurrect the dead?” Lina did not break her gaze.  
  
“No, he will do it once he overthrows the Emperor. I know he will, Lord Vader has foreseen the future many times,” Fiver sounded like the 501st always did with their over-boasting about their leadership.  
  
Cody was aware that prophecy was a purported Force gift. He had never seen much evidence that anybody was ever right more than part of the time. Never mind most of the time. Certainly not all of the time. The only thing that reliably increased your percentages was the power to make your predictions come true. Darth Vader only ever did what he wanted, so his predictions were very accurate.  
  
“He has seen it, Lord Vader will rule everything. Do whatever you want to me, I know this is true!”  
  
Fiver did not speak again. He seemed to fall into a daze, as if he was sleepwalking. They left him locked in the room. Alone, Fiver was reduced to sobbing. He cried out, over and over again, “My LORD!!”  
  
–

  


Cody and Lina came out of the interrogation and met Blue, Shizla, Niki and Sotna in a secure meeting room. The Queen’s close council. The group among whom all the secrets of state resided.  
  
“Funny how prophecies never say when or for how long, you just wait long enough for something that sounds like one to happen,” Shizla knew to be skeptical, she came from a culture with a ton of frauds competing for attention. Everyone was trying to convince everyone that their prophecy rightness percentages were higher than they were. Or at least higher than whoever they were talking to. Asking them to trust themselves and pledge their fates, with a contrite heart and submissive spirit. It was how any good Weequay assembled a loyal crew. Part of leadership, just like sales, is selling yourself. She preferred to highlight other aspects, like good judgment.  
  
Lina looked at the assembled adults, “What are our options?”  
  
Everyone knew she did not mean about what to do with Fiver. There were protocols in place for murderers. Bad feelings would have to be banished, a feeling of security reconsecrated. They were already thinking about the larger threat.  
  
“In any case, he’s too brainwashed to give us a credible account,” Cody reported. Any further interrogation would be cruel given the state of him.  
  
“Why did he think it would please him? Why does Vader care about us? Did you make him an enemy?” Niki asked Cody.  
  
“No, I barely knew him. I tried to speak to him once,” Cody admitted. “I have never antagonized him personally. I would have assumed Vader’s just doing what he thinks Sheev wants. But this idea about Vader planning to rule it all. That’s news to me,” Cody stroked his chin.  
  
Cody had always assumed that they were inseparable. Vader led the 501st into the Jedi Temple and Sheev gave Order 66. Those things were coordinated too exactly. In Cody’s mind, Vader and Sheev were the only ones in on the conspiracy before it was enacted. That was strategy 101, to discover a conspiracy’s agents, look to who benefits from its success.  
  
Cody also knew for certain the only other agents involved were clones and they were mind controlled with bio-chips installed when they were fetuses in jars. His question had always been, where was this Vader guy before? His hunch was that Vader must have helped engineer it from the start, since he participated knowingly. Cody had been worried his voice might activate something in clone brains the way Sheev’s did. Who knew what else they were built to do? But what Fiver was raving about was gibberish. He was probably too low in the chain of command to know anything useful.  
  
“If Vader wanted to overthrow the Emperor, maybe we could reach a mutual understanding without any need for mind control,” Cody proposed.  
  
Lina understood his inference, “How do we find this Vader? And if we do, how will you be able to talk to him to find out?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Cody admitted.  
  
\--  
  
Fiver had not told them a name. Cody of course had his suspicions about Vader’s identity. Like that he was really Sifo Dyas or some other key player already known to be involved. It didn’t really matter.  
  
Still, Niki would use their entertainment company’s network to spread strange rumors. Cody’s favorite one was that Vader was a cyborg of Count Dooku. Nobody saw what really happened to Count Dooku. Sheev had been the only witness to that killing. Maybe Skywalker might have wanted to tell the truth, so Sheev had Vader, aka Mecha-Dooku, to kill him. Like, maybe Skywalker only mortally wounded Dooku and assumed he was dead and part of him escaped like Darth Maul. If that was true, Dooku didn’t die in the Battle of Coruscant. He was just a head attached to a robot like General Grievous or something. The rumor was relegated to the level of tabloid trash on the holo-net.  
  
Even proposing an outlandish sounding lie, such as the Clone War being caused by a secret partnership between the war’s leaders to consolidate power on both sides, could get an author of fiction derided for life. Never mind a purported purveyor of the news. Spreading the rumors was one of many ways Cody was working to undermine the Empire. He lacked the might to do it directly, so instead, he pursued laughable theories that would expose the sham that the Empire’s power was actually built on.  
  
The graffiti tag, “Skywalker Lives” was actually Kenobi’s idea when they freed the clones imprisoned on Rothana.  
  
Kenobi had instructed the clones on Rothana to put up the motto everywhere in their city in the month before the planned breakout. That way, if Darth Vader ever came to investigate the incident, he would see the message. Kenobi always explained it by saying something vague like, “They’ll hate it.”  
  
Cody always thought it was an accusation at Vader, who had murdered the man Kenobi loved as his own brother. Kenobi was a Jedi, so he was forbidden from taking Vader’s life in revenge. But passive aggression was so much more him anyway.  
  
Maybe it didn’t matter who he was, ultimately. Darth Vader was Cody’s enemy. Now he might be their only hope.  
  
–

  


A new stage was built. This one at the cemetery, outside the walls of the settlement.  
  
The guardsmen’s bodies were laid out in their regalia. Many people passed their graves to pay their respects. The graves were bursting with small gifts, some quite valuable. Most were just cups or dishes with their favorite things on them. Many of the Weequay brought sacrifice animals, which they dispatched and threw into the grave.  
  
The queen cried. It came naturally to her, she felt things. She’d had much of sorrow and loss, but had never allowed herself to grow numb.  
  
It was valuable, Cody thought. To have someone who was allowed to feel. Clones had been raised expecting a beating for tears. If they had to be shed, it was in private, or only in front of the closest brothers. Crying was what women did, they were men, their trainers told them. It was not to say that clones never cried. But Cody couldn’t, he knew. Not in front of his brothers. In front of them, it was required that he show strength. Though the amount he needed felt like it would be superhuman. To find it, he held on to his wife.  
  
They closed the tomb. Prayers were said. Herbs were burned in bonfires for several days afterwards.

  


Rishi Moon

  


The assembled crowd was hushed. They were only a few, the colony’s large council, the heads of the guilds, and other official witnesses in charge of making sure everything went auspiciously. Nobody really wanted to be there.  
  
Fiver was brought to the platform while eels rumbled menacingly in the chasm below. He was bound, arms behind his back.  
  
The queen stepped forward in an elaborate dress of yellow, red, black and white. She had tears on her face, with an expression of fury that she did not feel.  
  
Cody stepped forward and faced her officially. He was in full armor, speaking loudly for the assembled people, “The first rule of our people has always been brother does not kill brother.” The crowd was solemn. It was mostly clones. They knew the ceremony. They knew the context.  
  
“But you follow my orders. You speak and act for me,” she said, with sadness. She didn’t want anyone to have to die.  
  
“Yes, my lady,” Cody bowed to one knee.  
  
“Execute,” Lina looked straight at Cody’s visor.  
  
In a flash, he pulled a vibro-blade and took off Niner’s head. The body fell from the platform to the eels below.  
  
An execution of a clone was something that they had seen before. There were deviants among them. These were kept in an orderly fashion. Justice was administered swiftly. The bad forces were rooted out. Normalcy could return.  
  
\--


	2. Captive Audience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A family reunion gets a little rocky.

Mandalore, Saxon Outpost

“Cabur Rau,” Tristan Wren led his entourage into the office tentatively.  
  
“You dare bring your men before me in this state?” Rau sipped from his drinking bowl.  
  
“It...I’m sorry for the ruse. I mean, they’re not Clan Wren, they are...messengers. From the Rebellion,” the Count presented them, “May I present Captain Rex.” He gestured at Victory. Victory did not remove his helmet, he merely waved a little.  
  
Tristan left, contritely.  
  
“Captain Rex? Is that really you?” Rau smiled.  
  
Seeing a guy that humorless smile was kind of creepy. Vic improvised, “Uh...yes indeed. It’s me. Captain Rex.”  
  
“You are prudent to come disguised, I admit,” Rau crossed his arms and nodded. “Most of these warriors are still a little sore about the clones that invaded during the Siege of Mandalore.”  
  
Victory didn’t feel like it was prudent to try to correct this guy on clone history. The clones had not ever had a lot of agency about where they ‘invaded’.  
  
“Oh, no offense taken,” Victory gave an exaggerated shrug to seem cheerful even through the armor. He was really feeling painted into a corner. He could hardly ask Fenn Rau about the whereabouts of Captain Rex when he was supposed to BE Captain Rex. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to glean much from the mission.  
  
“Cabur Rau, you have an unpaid bar tab of ninety-seven Imperial credits,” the droid said suddenly.  
  
Rau looked closely at the droid, “What is this about? Wait, why do you have the bartender from Concord Dawn? You went there?”  
  
Vic hadn’t ever been there, so he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer the follow up questions.  
  
Sh’ehn covered, affecting an accent he thought a Rebel would have, “We did, sir. Rex asked us because we’re helping Rex look for Alis.”  
  
Fenn Rau nodded. “Unfortunately, I can’t look for her myself just now. I’m glad someone is. You really care about her, I know, Rex. When you bring her back to me, you will have my gratitude.” Fenn Rau was still her head of House. Under his people’s laws, that bond was for life. “Don’t worry, I will oversee her training myself.”  
  
Vic thought the guy was imagining that he would be doing Alis a favor. It amused him to imagine what Alis’ mom would have to say to this pomposity.  
  
“Oh yeah, sounds good,” Victory nodded.  
  
Stabbi interjected suddenly, “Well, I think it’s best we be moseying along.”  
  
Vic had detected it too, he had said something Captain Rex would never have said.  
  
“What was the message?” Fenn Rau asked calmly, obviously not surprised to find Rebels acting socially awkward in a camp full of well-armed warriors who had killed a lot of people and who were taking turns beating enemy combatants in the courtyard for stress relief.  
  
“If Alis had been trying to find me...do you know where she might have gone?” Victory got serious. That seemed more like Captain Rex.  
  
“I assume you already checked the places you might have mentioned to her,” Fenn Rau looked almost skeptical.  
  
“Of course...I did that first,” Vic bluffed. “Of course I went to those places.”  
  
“Well where did you try?” Fenn Rau was deadly serious.  
  
“I assume Saleucami or Seelos, you remember, Rex, you always told all those funny stories about your brothers,” the suddenly chatty droid put in. The ‘Intelligence Service’ collectively squirmed. They should have asked it before.  
  
“Aruetyc, can you please just give me the message?” Rau was getting fed up.  
  
“The what?” Goran asked.  
  
“What was the message? You said you had a message from the Rebellion?” Rau looked thoroughly confused.  
  
“Oh...right...the..message,” Sh’ehn nodded. “Yeah, can you spare a few ships...maybe some cash...food...shoes?” He imagined Rebels as a bunch of destitute banditos.  
  
“No,” Rau didn’t look surprised.  
  
“Well, I just needed to tell my boss I tried,” Vic shrugged, “Bosses, amirite?” Most clones’ impressions of what natural born people talked to each other about was pretty mundane.  
  
“You tell Organa to spend less on his daughter’s bar tab and maybe he’d have more money for his secret vanity revolution,” Rau shook his head disapprovingly.  
  
The ‘Intelligence Service’s eyes went wide open under their helmets. Maybe the trip wasn’t such a waste after all.  
  
\--

  


Seelos

  


The Ghost touched down. The landing ramp opened and the hydraulics steamed.  
  
A few rounds were shot at the foot of the ramp from the head of the walker.  
  
“Damnit, Wolffe, it’s me!” Rex shouted from the top of the ramp and then cleared his throat and spit off the side of the ramp.  
  
“I know!” Wolffe shouted from the head.  
  
Rex stood his ground, “Wolffe! Stop being dramatic!” He shouted it in his command voice.  
  
“It’s been YEARS, Rex!” Wolffe scolded in HIS command voice. But his voice did have a slight crack.  
  
“HI, REX!” Gregor shouted and lowered his gun, so he could wave.  
  
Wolffe shook his head and patted Gregor’s shoulder. “You’re ruining this for me, brother.”  
  
“Not everything’s about you, you narcissist,” Gregor slapped it away.  
  
“Come down here!” Rex was still in command mode. He was used to Wolffe being difficult. But they both knew who the alpha was.  
  
Wolffe and Gregor climbed down, with Wolffe including a profanity laced tirade all the way down. Rex cringed internally as he heard Hondo chuckling in the ship.  
  
Hondo elbowed Melch, “Sounds just like his father, eh? You know, before he had Boba and decided he ought to clean up his language. This guy has almost as good a vocabulary as Commander Corky, I think.”  
  
Melch squealed in agreement.  
  
Rex gestured to the others to stay out of sight. He descended the ramp to meet his brothers.  
  
Wolffe was wearing his guns. Rex wasn’t worried  
  
“Alright, Wolffe, you’ve had your fun. You going to greet me or not?” he opened his arms. Gregor ran right to him and hugged him tightly. They broke and Rex turned to Wolffe.  
  
“First answer these riddles three,” Wolffe crossed his arms.  
  
“First, I drop you!” Rex threatened sarcastically. Even though they both knew he could.  
  
Instead, Rex went and hugged his brother for a long time. Just taking in the smell of him.  
  
They used to hug all the time. Rex remembered the feeling of connection he’d come to associate with it. They’d hugged a lot more after the war. When there weren’t a lot of other people around who they could even talk to. Never mind who they felt comfortable touching.  
  
Gregor was as affectionate as a big happy child. He joined them in the hug.  
  
Wolffe was sure that in a few days, Gregor would forget Rex ever left.  
  
Rex was the first to feel awkward, knowing the natural borns were watching. So he pulled back and patted them on the shoulders and cleared his throat.  
  
Wolffe noticed. He knew Rex was not alone. He glanced at the ship.  
  
Wolffe thought Rex had come with the same Rebels he’d seen before.  
  
Rex could practically hear the microscopic mechanisms of Wolffe’s prosthetic eye as it darted back and forth between the ship and Rex.  
  
Then Wolffe said something surprising, yet not, “Look, Rex, this is a lot. I’m...gonna need some time. I’m not ready to just pretend like everything goes back to the way it was,” Wolffe was standing up to Rex, it was strange.  
  
Rex knew it was part of a show for the natural borns, “Sure, brother, take all the time you need. I’ll be here. I’ll just go...wait in the ship until you’re ready to talk,” Rex didn’t consider himself an abuser. He knew his brother’s feelings were important. He didn’t expect the distrust would last.  
  
In the time he made Rex wait, Wolffe subjected the lot of them to a concert, singing angry emotional songs playing his guitar. Just because he knew emotional displays made Rex uncomfortable. Wolffe just enjoyed having his moment. He’d been waiting years to make Rex pay.  
  
“I think it’s kind of cute,” Alexsandr spoke up. He knew all those songs from when he was growing up in the Republic Academy. Rex pictured young Kallus in his room, with his portrait of the Chancellor to pray to and a poster of the pop singers on his wall for ‘inspiration’.  
  
Just to get it to stop, Rex was tempted to send Hondo out on his own and let him take his chances of getting shot by Gregor when he mistook him for a burglar.  
  
Wolffe decided Rex could be uncomfortable a bit longer and didn’t come out again, but instead went to bed without talking to him.  
  
\--

  


The next day, Hondo, and Melch hazarded to come out of hiding to smoke some spice and they surprised Wolffe and Gregor, who were making breakfast around the campfire. Kallus and Rex came outside to tell them to get back inside, but it was too late.  
  
“Rex look out!” Wolffe screamed and drew his blaster to kill Kallus. Safety was off.  
  
Gregor smacked Wolffe’s hand and caught the gun, while never letting go of his egg pan, “Brother! Manners!”  
  
Wolffe pointed his other pistol, “Don’t you remember who this dumbass is?” Wolffe casually waved the blaster at Kallus with his hand, like a finger.  
  
“Well, no, now that you mention it, these light skinned guys all look the same to me,” Gregor blushed, wanting to de-escalate.  
  
Hondo and Melch giggled.  
  
Wolffe took a deep breath.  
  
Rex came forward and stood between Wolffe and Alexsandr.  
  
“He’s a friend now,” Rex looked at Wolffe and held his palms up.  
  
Kallus put his own hands up and plead his case, “Commander, I know you of all people can understand how one can make the wrong decisions at first.”  
  
Wolffe preferred not to be reminded of how he had tried to report Rex’s Rebel friends, to make them leave Rex alone. According to him that was not the same thing, but he wasn’t sure what Kallus’ deal was, so he had to admit to himself, it might have been.  
  
But Kallus obviously thought Wolffe was sorry for it and he wasn’t. He thought he was protecting his brother.  
  
It was Rex that had then turned around and walked out on him and Gregor. Rex chose those exciting strangers over Wolffe, who had stood by his side for over a decade and a half of his very brief lifespan. Wolffe couldn’t help but remember that part of it, it kept welling up out of his heart like a bottle of beer that had been shaken. He was dangerously close to needing an alcoholic relapse, or at minimum, another self-indulgent personal jam session for his captive audience. He was disappointed Rex hadn’t brought any females.  
  
“Rex must be desperate for good company, Gregor,” Wolffe said loudly and holstered the blaster. He couldn’t resist a little spite. “How’s Commander Dume-ass?”  
  
“Dead,” said Rex, flatly. Exactly the way he would for any of his brothers. “Fuel explosion.”  
  
“Ah. Yeah,” Wolffe and Gregor mumbled as well. They all nodded casually.  
  
Gregor whispered to Wolffe, “Wait, I thought this guy was Dume-ass,” he pointed at Kallus.  
  
“No, this is Agent Kallus,” Wolffe explained a little too slowly.  
  
“I’m not an ISB agent anymore,” former-Agent Kallus made a face recognizing Wolffe’s tone as that the nurses used in the home when he was visiting his senile old grandpa on Coruscant. Kallus had been forced to listen to grandpa’s tasteless ‘faggot’ jokes every time he went there for holidays. And yet his family wondered why he was a workaholic.  
  
“Oooooooooh. Wait, thaaaaaaaat’s who he is. Tunko’s still got his bike!” Gregor randomly remembered.  
  
Wolffe seethed and took his other gun from Gregor, “Rex! Since you’re here, I’m gonna take advantage of the situation and go have a smoke and let YOU deal with catching Gregor up to speed four times.”  
  
Kallus nodded to himself. Yep, senile. He had never imagined to himself that Captain Rex had such typical family issues. Kallus remembered that clones aged three standard rotations for an average human’s one. He felt badly for Rex. These two were obviously not in mint condition.  
  
Wolffe walked away a bit of a distance, since he didn’t want to share and that Weequay looked like he was the type to steal healing herbs from needy people for sure. Wolffe checked his supply of healing herbs and it was getting low. He sighed. Because of course. 

  


–  
  
Rex wouldn’t let Hondo and Melch smoke spice around the campfire, over Gregor’s extreme protestations followed by outright whining. But former ISB Agent Kallus gave him one look and Hondo kept his stash in his belt pouches. Hondo did offer shots of Weequay grappa that everyone accepted for their caf.  
  
Rex was cooking for Gregor. A nice rack of ribs with a sauce. Rex had brought food as a peace offering. Gregor was delighted. He hadn’t had a proper rib breakfast in what seemed like forever.  
  
Wolffe stood apart for a while. Then he gradually started ambling back towards the campfire circle. He wasn’t proud of himself for giving in so quickly, but he was so damned hungry, he surrendered.  
  
The Ugnaught was telling Gregor a dirty story about this show girl at Jabba the Hutt’s casino on Nal Hutta. He stood up to do some thrusting gestures. Gregor and Hondo were howling with laughter.  
  
Wolffe was pretty sure Gregor spoke no Ugnaught, but then, he might, Gregor had surprised him before. He didn’t like what the gestures the Ugnaught was miming implied he had done to this poor woman.  
  
Rex asked Kallus to watch the grill and walked over to intercept Wolffe before he rejoined them.  
  
“Um...so I’ve come back,” Rex opened his arms to show he wasn’t armed.  
  
“You don’t say…” Wolffe was suspicious.  
  
“No for real, I think we should just stick together from now on,” Rex just went on getting to his point despite Wolffe’s reluctance. “Wolffe...Ahsoka’s gone. I think Darth Vader killed her,” Rex admitted. “It’s her fight, I’m carrying it on for her. Can you understand that?”  
  
Wolffe hung his head. Karking Rex. As if he didn’t have enough at the moment. Wolffe sniffled and wiped his nose, “I always knew she’d get herself killed.” The certainty of it crystallized for him. It wasn’t like it would change much for him, he hadn’t seen her in years. Wolffe pulled himself together, because as usual, he was given no other choice.  
  
Wolffe understood Ahsoka had probably had a vendetta out on that Darth Vader guy. He could at least relate to that. He had plenty of people he had vowed to kill on sight if he ever had the chance. Wolffe talked a lot out of his feelings. Rex never knew if Wolffe would really do it, though.  
  
Rex was certain that after all he had been through, now he could pull a trigger on a monster. His own fingers were a lot steadier now. More than they’d been on Umbara. He supposed his position on right and wrong had shifted somewhat. Someone in the galaxy had to clean up the excrement in the food chain. Those with the proper stomachs to digest it. Rex embraced his shifted role. But even that seemed natural, like it was part of a cycle, like a precession of the equinoxes.  
  
“I have a mission, I’m recruiting. What do you say? We fight together as Rebels?” Rex hazarded some presumption. He was asking Wolffe to just rejoin his life.  
  
Wolffe was resigned rather than inspired.  
  
Wolffe usually made Rex explain his plans, but he was happy to defer to Rex if it meant he had to make fewer decisions. “Fine. I’ll submit to fighting for you.”  
  
“Submit?” Rex wouldn’t have characterized their relationship that way.  
  
“Yeah, I will choose to fight, but at the same time, I’m very sure that I’m just a victim of your fate. So I submit myself to my destiny,” Wolffe frowned.  
  
“You said...fight for me. I’m your destiny?” Rex patted his shoulder.  
  
“Seems like it, don’t it?” Wolffe asked as if he was joking, but Rex thought he was probably not. He put his arm around his brother.  
  
“It’s your destiny to get me killed,” Wolffe shook his head.  
  
Rex let Wolffe enjoy his martyrdom. “I also came back for something else,” Rex felt a slight quaver in his voice.  
  
“What now?” Wolffe crossed his arms defensively.  
  
“To say sorry. I shouldn’t have left that way. I’m sorry I haven’t ever contacted you all this time. I’ve really missed you two,” Rex hazarded a little humility.  
  
And just like that, Wolffe loved him again. He hated himself for being such a weakling, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never make his heart stop bossing him around. Rex had always made him feel like he was doing what was right. He missed feeling that way. Without all the guilt and doubt.  
  
Rex patted Wolffe’s head of hair as they began to walk slowly back to the fire, “It’s been hard having no one to talk to.”  
  
“Are you actually implying that I should be feeling sorry for you?” Wolffe tried to sound like he was joking. But there was a slight grit to his tone.  
  
Rex changed the subject too quickly, which Wolffe took to imply that Rex hadn’t been listening. “Wolffe, I’m worried. There is a chance Darth Vader could come looking for me now. He knows I’m alive. He’s trying to find me. The sooner we get off world the better,” Rex didn’t want Hondo to overhear.  
  
“You don’t say….” Wolffe decided that was reason enough to leave Alis out of it. His payback. Rex didn’t just get to dictate the terms of his own surrender. Wolffe wouldn’t go along with that this time.  
  
–  
  
“We’re going to need to put a landing platform on the walker so we can park the ship,” Rex had started supervising right away. He had out a datapad and a stylus.  
  
Wolffe pulled back from leadership and resumed his old role in the chain of command as critic of everything, “Do you have any idea how much that will slow us down?”  
  
“Wolffe, we’re just trying to stay mobile to keep from being seen. We can’t let people know where we’re keeping the ship or the bandits will attack us. We don’t need to go galloping through the wastes,” Rex pointed his stylus.  
  
“How do YOU know how I’ve been driving it?” Wolffe looked petulant.  
  
“Eubuleus. I ran into him on Nal Hutta. He said you wiped out half of his herd,” Rex scolded.  
  
“Technically, it was the speeders of the bandits who were chasing us that took out half his herd, we just used it as a chance to get away,” Wolffe explained.  
  
“And he wasn’t even driving!” Gregor interjected.  
  
Wolffe started to sweat. He didn’t know how he’d explain himself.  
  
“Who was driving, Gregor?” Rex was confused.  
  
“Princess Leia Organa, you know, the one that used to date that guy from the thing,” Gregor said without a hint of irony.  
  
Rex decided Gregor was talking crazy. Senator Organa’s daughter had never been to ratty old Seelos.  
  
Kallus made a piteous face at Gregor. The poor demented old fool, he thought.  
  
Wolffe breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
“I told her I wasn’t sure she was real. She said she thought she was, but she couldn’t be sure because she’d never been anyone but herself, so it would be like trying to see her own forehead,” Gregor was recounting one of his conversations with Alis.  
  
Wolffe watched him closely, but Rex didn’t seem to catch wise.  
  
“She knew who she was this morning, but she’d changed a few times since then,” Gregor quoted.  
  
“Is that from a song or something?” Rex asked. He had the funniest feeling he’d heard that somewhere before.  
  
Wolffe knew the best way to repel Rex’s interest in a thing, “Don’t you know my fine literature when you hear it? That is a passage from one of my gay bestiality stories.”  
  
“Wait, YOU wrote that holonet trash? Punkin Drublic is YOUR pseudonym? I’m not sure I want to be in the same room with you,” Gregor had read some of Wolffe’s sarcastic gay animal porn stories by accident and complained that he was left scarred.  
  
“Nobody MADE you read it. The cover made it clear it was smut, I thought,” Wolffe swatted dismissively.  
  
Rex noticed Kallus discreetly look down at his datapad, probably to do a search to see what kinds of things Punkin Drublic wrote about.  
  
Rex rolled his eyes and moved on to something else.  
  
–  
  
Rex climbed the walker with Kallus to take some measurements. Kallus obviously knew the most about the Imperial equipment. Those who wanted to be supervisors were left to plan to their hearts’ content. They conducted their little survey and put together a detailed list, with extensive and, in large part unnecessary, discussion about every stinking minute aspect.  
  
The rest were assigned tasks, but those were quickly completed and the supervisors had disappeared, so the rest just hung around under the shade of the walker keeping a lookout for bandits.  
  
“So which one are you?” Hondo looked at Gregor.  
  
“What?” Gregor asked.  
  
“He’s Happy. I’m Dopey,” Wolffe deadpanned. He was wearing his gun holsters, which he thought made a good frame for his dick.  
  
“You don’t work for Corky, do you?” Hondo asked, and took out a tin of spice from his belt pouch. He packed the pipe and then cordially handed it to Gregor.  
  
“I don’t work FOR anybody anymore. I work WITH my brothers, you know, like a pack or a band or something, not a battalion. My NAME is Gregor,” Gregor took it gratefully and puffed on it like a vacuum droid.  
  
Hondo refilled the bowl. Wolffe paced itchily.  
  
“What about him? He’s not one of Corky’s goons?” Ohnaka asked.  
  
Gregor liked his new friend. “This guy doesn’t like to do anything FOR anybody. He’s Wolffe.”  
  
“Commander of the 104th Battalion,” Wolffe flexed.  
  
Hondo was piss drunk already, that early in the day. He slurred, “Oh, right, General Koon. I met him once when I had your brother Boba and Aurra Sing visiting. They trashed my bar.”  
  
“Riiiiiight, sure. You knew Boba, too?” Wolffe cocked an eyebrow.  
  
“I knew Boba, I knew Jango,” he counted on his wrinkled brown fingers, hiccuping a few times, “Count Dooku actually hated me enough to destroy my base.”  
  
“That guy hated you? Wow,” Gregor sounded impressed.  
  
Hondo drew on his flask and passed it to Gregor, “I’ve had lots of people who hated me. Herb farmers. Those red bladed Zabraks. Anakin Skywalker. That tight little teenager in the tube top. My own men...”  
  
“I fought under Augie Ben Doggie, did he hate you?” Gregor asked, before drawing another pipe full and exhaling pink smoke.  
  
Wolffe hoped Kallus would smell it and come down to make them knock it off. But he wouldn’t narc. One of the first laws of clonedom was that you never rat on a brother. And Gregor would not appreciate being treated as a lesser being. So Wolffe had to deal with it in any way he could.  
  
“I never met that Jedi, but Obi-Wan Kenobi was a personal friend,” Hondo bragged. Wolffe thought Hondo was most likely full of poodoo.  
  
“Never heard of him,” Gregor shook his head. “Sounds made up.”  
  
Wolffe laughed. Gregor laughed too, although Wolffe was having a joke to himself. Kenobi had been Gregor’s General.  
  
“Oh, he was a lovely person. I guess he still held it against me a bit after I tried to murder those Jedi children for kyber crystals,” Hondo admitted, in an even odder flex.  
  
“You knew Jango, quick, I HAVE to know,” Wolffe completely forgot the substances as he began his game that he often played with pathological liars he met in bars. Overwhelming them with detailed and specific questions about their lies. Wolffe had gotten the idea from enbee men, who seemed to use the technique whenever women claimed to have hobbies and they didn’t believe her that she was really an enthusiast. Wolffe called it, ‘Manterrogation’. Wolffe had always found that natural born men tended to brag a lot, and at the very least embellish, if not outright provably fabricate, because they assume nobody knows anything. So any drinking establishment provided more than enough guys to manterrogate, when Wolffe was in the mood to exercise his brain, “What did Jango go for, like...orientation wise. I mean consensus would imply he was straight, the overwhelming majority of us are. But what did he like? You know, species wise? Was he into Twi’leks? Because I think that seems to be something pretty prevalent in the data set. Also after a piss, did he shake or squeeze, because I have a theory...”  
  
Hondo passed out drunk by lunch after Wolffe verbally ran him around a few laps. Wolffe attempted to pick Hondo’s belt pockets before Rex came down, but the guy seemed to have nothing on him but spice, so Wolffe didn’t think he needed the temptation and left it.  
  
Then he scared the crap out of Melch with a very specific threat about what happened to people who tell disrespectful stories about women, especially Twi’lek women, in his presence. The speech included a rundown of thousands of years of Ryloth history and the degradation the people, especially the women, were forced to endure. He got graphic and truthful. Then he lectured him on the medical complications that could arise from the act Melch had bragged about committing on someone. By the end of it, Melch was crying.  
  
Where Rex said he didn’t have anyone to talk to, Wolffe was positively starved for new conversations. Not that Hondo or Melch were good company. But if a person is starving, even maggots are edible. 

  


\--  
  
After lunch, Rex started divvying up tasks, “Wolffe, can you fly to Kwymartown and get some supplies?”  
  
“No,” Wolffe deadpanned.  
  
“Fine, I’ll send Kallus,” Rex rolled his eyes.  
  
“I mean as in Kwymartown burned down,” Wolffe corrected.  
  
“When?” Gregor was shocked.  
  
“When No-Longer-Admiral Brom Titus brought that Dark Force wielder to look for you,” Wolffe accused at Rex.  
  
“Oh, don’t worry about her. I shot her,” Rex waved it off.  
  
Wolffe smacked his forehead. The more he saved people’s lives, the more they turned around and got themselves killed.  
  
“And Ezra killed Titus,” Kallus put in, sounding almost bored.  
  
Gregor snickered, “Biggus Dickus.”  
  
Wolffe burst out laughing, casually wiping the one eye he had that could still make tears.  
  
Rex lowered his eyebrows. As usual, his brothers allied to make his life difficult. He’d missed them, “You mean Tunko is out of business,” Rex asked, focusing on the task.  
  
Wolffe scratched his full head of hair, “Hard to say, we haven’t been back over that way in a while. Not since it…”  
  
“Burned down, we get it,” Kallus shook his head.  
  
Rex smiled. He had an ally, the balance of power had shifted strangely.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll go see. Your hot friend can go with me to pick up his bike,” Wolffe made a face like he was up to something. Wolffe was delighted to have the opportunity to check in at Tunko’s and see if there were any packages from Saleucami. It would definitely help stabilize his situation.  
  
Rex put up a palm in a halting gesture, “Wolffe, I’m sure he doesn’t wanna...”  
  
“No, it’s fine,” Alexsandr accepted too easily for Rex’s comfort for some reason.  
  
–  
  
“So…,” Wolffe let Kallus fly the ship. He punched in the coordinates of a scrappy outcropping about a click or two from the K-Town Oasis.  
  
“So you and Rex like...work together?” Wolffe asked.  
  
“Yes we’re...kind of part of the same unit,” Kallus didn’t really know how to explain the looser Rebel chain of command. “I suppose we’re also friends.”  
  
“Oh no, you aren’t friends,” Wolffe corrected jokingly.  
  
At least, Alexsandr thought he was joking, “How do you know?”  
  
“Clone,” Wolffe answered automatically. “Also, I’ve seen Rex be friends. His bromances were absolutely epic and I don’t see that between you two.”  
  
“Really?” Alexsandr found himself a little fascinated.  
  
“Oh yeah. He and General Skywalker had matching training uniforms for battle simulators and matching jerseys of their favorite sports teams to watch games in together,” Wolffe revealed. “They both used to carry hotsauce in their belt pouches for meals. I think I even seen them share a toothbrush once.”  
  
“I won’t even do that with my boyfriend,” Kallus was having a hard time imagining Captain Rex acting that way.  
  
Wolffe was not exaggerating a bit.  
  
–  
  
Rex had Gregor watch Hondo and Melch. He supposed it was alright if Gregor consumed alcohol. He was an adult after all. Couldn’t really hurt him at this point. It kept them busy and out of trouble.  
  
He took up his tool box and set to reinforcing the areas where the platform would have to join. Walkers were made to be complete portable battle stations, so such upgrades were accounted for in the design. Not having an Imperial parts depot nearby, they would have to construct their own, but Kallus said the components were pretty standard.  
  
Once that was done, Rex went inside the walker to see if he could contact Hera.  
  
He wiped the grease off his fingers before he punched in the code.  
  
Hera’s glowing hologram appeared, throwing light against Rex’s face to form the image sent to her.  
  
“Rex, it’s you,” her tone was like always, calm, but with a timbre if emotion underneath. “I got your transmission.”  
  
“You’re okay, you’re not hurt are you?” Rex asked, pressing his emotions deep down inside him.  
  
“I’m unhurt. Kanan made sure of that,” the hand on Hera’s figure went to her stomach. “I’m not sure when we’ll be able to get off world. But we’re desperate here. Keep this channel open.”  
  
“We’ll be ready when you call...Hera,” it was still new for Rex to call a general by her first name. But she’d insisted he keep calling her what he’d always called her.  
  
Rex didn’t care about Wolffe’s ‘conditions’. He was there to do his duty. He was the alpha, after all. When his General called, he was ready to depart.  
  
–

  


Once the Ghost was stashed and secured with all its flight codes and locks, they had about a two kilometer walk over the rocky desert terrain to the oasis. Wolffe sang along the way, listening to his old player pod.  
  
Kallus didn’t think Wolffe could hear him, so he played a game he sometimes did when his mind wandered. He tried to think of the most uncomfortable question he could ask a person.  
  
“So, I don’t understand, were you and Rex a...couple?” Kallus asked Wolffe abruptly.  
  
Wolffe took out a headphone to indicate he knew he was being addressed. He hadn’t reacted, so Kallus assumed he hadn’t understood.  
  
But then his answer meant he did. “Partners. Family. Whatever. Some people get caught up defining things. I shy from that, when I can,” Wolffe dodged and found his own footing, “I would say I usually don’t go that way, but it’s been a while since I’ve been this attracted to a man, so you’ll have to forgive my awkwardness. I don’t read anything romantic from you and Rex, so…?” Wolffe said suddenly and raised his eyebrows twice.  
  
“I’m...with someone,” Kallus realized he’d said that with a little bit of regret. Rex’s brother was definitely interesting.  
  
Wolffe looked sidelong at him, “Is he bigger than me?”  
  
Kallus laughed charmingly, “Definitely yes. And a very jealous Lasat is something you don’t want to encounter.”  
  
“ZEB! You’re with ZEB!” Wolffe looked like he was a fan.  
  
Kallus blushed, “You know him! Of course.”  
  
Wolffe smiled and looked at him for the first time, “Yeah! Wow.” Wolffe was just so damned proud to see a person living the life they wanted. Making a stand against conformity. “Makes sense.”  
  
Kallus laughed a little too suddenly, then looked ahead at the sky, “In what possible galaxy do we make sense?”  
  
Kallus remembered the last time he’d been to Seelos. He was humiliated when he thought of who he was then.  
  
Somehow Wolffe detected this, “Why did you try to kill us?” Wolffe asked, abruptly.  
  
“I wasn’t here for you, I was here for the Rebels as you know. You three just got in my way, remember?” Kallus admitted. Working for the Empire meant being sent after specific targets repeatedly. Such things easily became personal.  
  
“I hope you’re working on those anger issues, there, Agent Overkill. For Zeb’s sake. But then, I guess in that domestic situation, he could snap you like a twig if you tried to hurt him,” Wolffe laughed.  
  
Alexsandr worried Wolffe was the kind of person who was already imagining Lasat-human pornographic situations for a Punkin Drublic story. He also worried he might feel compelled to read them.  
  
“Where did you learn that music?” Kallus asked him to change the subject.  
  
Wolffe was very unused to having anyone pay any attention to what he did or cared about. Never mind voluntarily show an interest.  
  
“I’m not any good, I mean no innate sense for it. But I love to sing and it’s more socially acceptable to do so if you can play something. Even if you’re bad. Because most people simply can’t. And if you love it, you won’t mind practicing to get better. During the war my girlfriend had some actual training. She taught me a little. I fake the rest,” Wolffe shrugged. “But my girl said you can’t teach soul. She thought I had it. Most people couldn’t see it, but she did.” Wolffe was really feeling depressed. He really hoped Cut had sent a new packet. And that Tunko hadn’t sold them off.  
  
Kallus thought for a moment of the happiness he had known recently. He knew he was lucky. He wanted to help his friend Captain Rex to return the blessing, “So Commander, we were recently on Eriadu. Captain Rex declined to tell me what it was about, but that is where we met the inquisitor. Rex saved my life. Just before that, we were there making inquiries after people and I wonder if you might be able to tell me what it was about?” former Agent Kallus questioned directly. “It seemed personal.”  
  
Wolffe’s family code of course forbade him from spilling another brother’s lager. Wolffe didn’t make eye contact.  
  
Kallus persisted, “He was talking about an Imperial prisoner named Zerlina Tarkin, daughter of Clara? Married name Grady?”  
  
Wolffe was glad Gregor wasn’t there. He might remember something about a girl named Grady. Recently.  
  
“I don’t think I’d tell you anything if I knew. Rex has always been private about his business, official and personal. But you’ve seen what he’s up against. When Rex lies to me, I accept it because if a Force wielder comes, I have nothing to give. But Rex cannot avoid knowing the things he does. People will hunt him as long as he lives. So he’s chained to the fight, all he can do is defend himself and those he cares about. I don’t question it because if I did, I’d be more likely to die,” Wolffe repeated the justification he gave himself for forgiving Rex time after time.  
  
“No, I was just thinking of a lead he might pursue. It might be tragic, though. He seems to find my interest unwelcome. I was sort of caught in his crossfire,” Alexsandr admitted.  
  
“Welcome to my universe,” Wolffe smirked. “Look, I’m not gonna tell you what to do. But why don’t you give ME the information and I could maybe tell him. If it’s too bad, I can...soften the blow,” Wolffe gestured comfortingly.  
  
“Well, female prisoners were often siphoned into a program called the Prison Maintenance Corps. They were thought to be well-suited to cooking, cleaning, and unofficially of course, performing as courtesans for the prison administration. But women who disappeared into that system were never heard from again,” Kallus reported as blandly as he could. “I’m not sure that is a scenario for his friend that will give him much hope.”  
  
“I’ll tell him. Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to. But...he’s got a lot on his plate right now,” Wolffe advised. He thought of poor probably motherless Alis. He told himself he’d done the right thing.  
  
“I understand,” Kallus only wanted to help his friend. 

  


\--  
  
Tunko’s had rebuilt from salvaged debris from K-Town. It was much bigger, and jumping with activity. The survivors of the fire had evidently fled to the safety of Tunko’s fences on the high ground. Wolffe wondered what they had worked out for getting water. He couldn’t help think like a strategist. He searched the scene and identified where police guards were clustered around large black hoses that reached down to the oasis. They were making people line up to get water out.  
  
Tunko saw Wolffe coming from a spy nest he was sitting in. “You on foot, huh? I knew it. Somebody was gonna take that walker from you guys.”  
  
Wolffe waved nonchalantly, letting Tunko believe that. Tunko opened the gate and flew down to greet them. He handed Wolffe a Saleucami packet and a com request notice from Coruscant that only had a com signature. Wolffe nonchalantly stuffed them into his cuirass. Then he chuckled to himself at the word ‘cuirass’.  
  
“Look who I found, though?” Wolffe pointed at Kallus.  
  
Kallus waved, “Hello. Just here for my bike.”  
  
“Imperial scum,” Tunko spat on Kallus’ boot.  
  
“Oh no, he got fired from his job,” Wolffe explained, “He hates those guys now. So he came here and is trying out joopa slinging. I could teach him, but I have no vehicle. Then I remembered what you said, you had his bike,” Wolffe told a story that was deliberately ridiculous. He would never have tried spear fishing joopa from a speeder bike. Not since he stopped drinking, anyway.  
  
The Toydarian shrugged, “Um, it’s not mine no more.”  
  
“Why?” Wolffe felt the truth dawn on him, “Wait, who’s in charge here.”  
  
The Kwymartown police force surrounded them with weapons.  
  
Tunko hung his head, “They took over after the place...you know.”  
  
Kallus rolled his eyes.  
  
They put their hands up and the chief of police came to look at who they had.  
  
“Agent?” he asked on seeing Kallus again. The first time he’d come there, Kallus had been through Kwymartown to get transport off world. It had been an embarrassing disaster.  
  
“Agent, where are those weapons you promised us we could have if we helped you?” the police chief asked.  
  
Kallus hadn’t ever thought he would come back to this world, so he had told them the Empire would reward them.  
  
The police chief squinted, “Admiral Titus said he’d get them for us if we helped him, too. We never found who he was looking for, but it’s not our fault. He never paid us, he didn’t have to burn the town down.”  
  
“And for whom was he looking?” Kallus asked.  
  
“You know, Biggus Dickus. We’ve searched everywhere for Biggus Dickus,” the chief answered.  
  
Kallus sighed.  
  
Wolffe turned to Kallus, “Who hasn’t? Amirite?  
  
Wolffe cleared his throat, “Um, I’m him. He...found me. So that thing is all cleared up. See? We’re friends now.”  
  
“Good, then you’ll enjoy keeping each other company, because neither one of you is leaving here until I get the weapons you promised,” the chief gestured and the police grabbed them.


	3. A Word Privately

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex leaves Wolffe in command, with the results one would expect

The Remains of Kwymartown, Seelos  
  
Kallus and Wolffe were thrown into a cage between supply tents.  
  
“Alright, so I assume we are going to break out and steal a vehicle?” Kallus said as soon as the police walked away.  
  
“This is not some Imperial base supplied with funds from a completely unaudited budget, there Agent Three Walkers and some Tie Fighters,” it still gave Wolffe legitimate pride that he and his brothers had out strategized this guy and cost the Empire a ton of credits. “There are like thirty working vehicles on the whole damned planet. And there has been a rash of crashes of late. That’s why non-native people stay so close to facilities and water. They can’t move. They don’t have enough water to walk from place to place. So people tend to stay put. Eyes on the prize, we are still getting your bike.”  
  
“Why?” Kallus really found the man inconsistent.  
  
Half the time Wolffe seemed insane, half the time he betrayed sharpened cunning. “It is pretty new. Probably in working order,” Wolffe shrugged. “Better candidate than most of what is on Seelos, honestly.”  
  
“I’ve never been very good at flying one,” Kallus defended.  
  
“So you get on the back,” Wolffe smiled. The lock on the cell snapped open.  
  
Kallus looked in disbelief, he hadn’t even seen him disable the lock. “How did you do that?”  
  
“You should see how fast I can undo a bra,” Wolffe winked, “Come on, impound is this way.”  
  
They snuck along, keeping low and hiding behind crates and tarps. They checked in a few tents, but there was not much in but partial reconstructions of wrecked vehicles. Mostly, parts were being pulled to pieces for the metal salvage. Finally, they found the speeder bike. It was leaned up against a wall near a work bench. It had been joyridden and cracked up a bit. The goons who made up the police force on remote Seelos had no training for brand new speeder bikes. So their attempts to teach themselves seemed to have been so far unsuccessful. Wolffe checked if it had fuel in the tank. And that the oil level was good.  
  
“How were you able to deduce this would still be here?” Kallus looked around to make sure the coast was clear.  
  
“There are two kinds of people in the world. Those who can extrapolate from incomplete data,” Wolffe said casually.  
  
Kallus waited a second or two, then he realized Wolffe’s joke. His anticipation made him look foolish.  
  
Wolffe didn’t feel the need to explain that he was a professional strategist with more training hours and practical experience than almost any other brand of being ever created. Predicting sentient behavior was second nature.  
  
Wolffe also had certain enhancements, a prosthesis that allowed him to use it like a visor lens, as well as total visual recall from the device directly to his brain. He was a compact tactical weapon. But he preferred to keep some mystery to the thing.  
  
They led the bike along the perimeter wall, keeping to the dark. They dispatched a few guards and took their blasters.  
  
“We still have to get the gate open. No...wait,” Wolffe began quietly pushing the bike towards the wall in the area where he and Gregor had crashed through. Sure enough, they had patched it with the cheap cement and it had shrunk when it dried. The seams were already starting to crack. Wolffe casually produced a few charges from his belt and stuck them in along the seam. “When I blow this, be ready to get on.”  
  
The camp lit up as the police realized Wolffe and Kallus were not in their cell.  
  
“Well this complicates things,” Kallus looked at Wolffe.  
  
“Surprisingly not as much as you’d think,” Wolffe hit the detonator and revved the bike.  
  
“Blast him,” a policemen yelled.  
  
The bike navigated right into the flames and smoke of the explosion. It moved all too slowly over the rubble as Wolffe and Kallus were showered with dust and debris. The police could not see them well to get a clear shot. Kallus turned and returned fire. The bike went through the hole in the wall and screamed off over the dunes.  
  
–  
  
Wolffe looked at the notice when they stopped at the trans-hemispherical pipeline to refuel the ship using one of the id cards Alis had stolen. A com request had been sent from Coruscant, but as he was not present to accept charges he was merely given the call record. But the com signature was on there.  
  
As much as Wolffe wanted to see her and hear her, he simply sent a text transmission to Alis from the com box at the station.  
  
“Hey kid. Don’t come back to Seelos, okay?”  
  
Wolffe was relieved. He had been reluctant to leave Seelos if there was a chance Alis would come back.  
  
Wolffe then got out Cut’s package of healing herbs. Still not enough to share with slimy old Hondo, but he appreciated it. He was just unwrapping the package to smell it when he noticed the note on the inside of the wrapper.  
  
–  
  
When they got back to the walker Wolffe was quiet.  
  
Rex looked at Wolffe closely, “What’s with you, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”  
  
“Uh….the way this guy flies…,” Wolffe brushed off.  
  
“You were flying on the way back,” Kallus reminded him.  
  
“Oh...yeah..the...yeah,” Wolffe could not anymore. Not one more karking thing!  
  
Rex scrutinized him, “Are you alright, brother, you look nauseous. Get hydrated.”

  


–  
  
After lunch, Gregor and Wolffe were assigned new tasks. They said they would get to it as soon as they had a piss. Then they took their time at it, as anyone in their situation would.  
  
“You’re really glad to see Rex, huh?” Wolffe began. They were both side by side staring straight ahead as was protocol.  
  
“Yeah. You guys aren’t gonna fight again, are you?” Gregor grumbled. He just knew these two were going to screw this up.  
  
Wolffe shook off and zipped back up, “Well, I couldn’t just say NOTHING after what he did.”  
  
“What difference does it make anyhow?” Gregor zipped. They continued to look off in the same direction, periodically pointing to look as if they were merely discussing the horizon.  
  
Wolffe turned to Gregor slightly, “Rex wants to take us with him. I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing and that you want that. I will stay with you if you want to stay here, but I have to know that he asked your permission.”  
  
“Stop being so karking idiotic. We’re a family,” Gregor swatted at an imaginary fly.  
  
“If that’s what you want…” Wolffe held up his palms to surrender.  
  
“Oh come on, like we don’t do just exactly what you want one hundred percent of the time,” Gregor was looking at the ground. “Like this isn’t exactly what you wanted. You’ve got Rex back.”  
  
Suddenly Wolffe realized something.  
  
“Gregor,” he faced his brother, “As far as I’m concerned, Rex can kark all the way off with his Rebellion crap.”  
  
“Don’t say that, say ‘The Thing,’” Gregor randomly corrected.  
  
“And anyway, he didn’t even ASK us to go before, he just informed me he’d be leaving and he up and left, no forwarding address,” Wolffe was sure he’d explained that, but after second thought he realized he might not have. Gregor might have come to his own conclusions.  
  
“How are you always simultaneously the victim and hero in all your narratives?” Gregor was downright shocking Wolffe with his sharpness. Wolffe decided he would let Hondo continue to give Gregor spice if this was how he performed. It couldn’t HURT his memory at this point.  
  
Wolffe decided it was a good time to try to get some answers.  
  
“Gregor...you...know we are probably going to be in a battle, right? Maybe many battles,” Wolffe realized as soon as he said it, his caution sounded ridiculous and condescending. Their daily life on Seelos was not much safer. And at least fighting was something they were programmed to do. They would have lots less mental burden.  
  
Gregor’s facial expression registered that it sounded ridiculous indeed.  
  
“I just meant...look, we have been through a lot, you and I,” Wolffe’s ears felt hot. “I need to know...this isn’t another of your little stunts, is it?”  
  
“I STILL don’t know what you mean to imply with that,” Gregor was not any kind of liar. His face froze up like a mask as he tried.  
  
Wolffe spoke slowly, but not to condescend, “Gregor, I found the note once. I could see, you can barely even write anymore. The letters were all messed up. Sometimes your hands shake. Three times I have found you trying to overdose on substances you could get a hold of. I stopped you EVERY time.”  
  
“Why did you?” Gregor choked. “Are you really so afraid of being alone? Wolffe, I know you’re getting tired of me always being around. I can tell it in your tone of voice sometimes.”  
  
Wolffe felt devastated and his face showed it. He couldn’t say he’d never had those passing thoughts. About not being tired. About not having anybody need him. He never knew Gregor took it personally, but in hindsight, it might have been directed at Gregor more than Wolffe would have liked. He, of course, felt horrible.  
  
“Gregor, I choose to be with you. It’s what I want,” Wolffe put his hand on his brother’s shoulder.  
  
Of course Wolffe had dreams. He just chose not to pursue them, not because of Gregor, but because he knew they were silly, childish things. Just imaginary things that gave him an escape. Like living like a music video pimp for a day, or walking into a situation like an action star, or what he would do if he ever had a ton of money. Wolffe shook his head, “Maybe this isn’t the life I planned...but it’s enough for me. I can live with my choices. No regrets. I’m not sorry or resentful. I know I take the piss, but complaints aside, I’m here for you brother. One hundred percent. I love you.”  
  
Gregor sniffed and made a gesture of peacemaking and started over, “I’m not being who I want to be here. I got angry. I’m sorry.”  
  
“For what?” Wolffe asked.  
  
“’For what 'what'?” Gregor asked as if he had forgotten the whole thing. He hadn’t quite, but he hoped to banish the unpleasantness by willing it away.  
  
“Nothing,” Wolffe suddenly kissed Gregor on the side of his bald head.  
  
“You’re weird,” Gregor dismissed.  
  
\--

Wolffe knew he couldn’t stand it anymore. Finally, he walked over to Rex and he said loudly, too loudly, “Rex, the police have taken over K-Town. They’ve got everybody stuck at Tunko’s surrounded by the walls. They can’t even get water without police permission. We have to do something,” Wolffe insisted.  
  
“Wolffe what do you want me to do?” Rex was getting annoyed, at least Wolffe thought he detected that in his voice. “K-Town elected these thugs, remember. They’re just doing what they were mandated to do, keep everybody safe in time of distress.”  
  
“But I’m sure this isn’t what they intended,” Wolffe argued.  
  
“Wolffe we don’t have the resources to spare. Now, Kallus says he thinks he can dismantle parts from the other two walkers to make the platform, since Tunko’s is no longer an option, so I need you to take a team over to the scrap site to get them,” Rex moved along. “Then I need to go and use the ship to make a run for relief supplies for the mission.”  
  
“Really?” Wolffe smirked. There was a gleam in that one good eye that Rex had not seen in years.  
  
Rex pointed like he did in command mode, “Look, I’ll only be two rotations. You can have command of the walker and my whole team for a few days. Just get that platform up by the time I get back. I’ll come and find you on our frequency, you’ll know it’s me if you hear a call for Joopa Base, okay?” Rex realized that last word made him sound unsure.  
  
“You’re gonna let me take care of things? All by myself? And they’ll all do what I say to execute it?” Wolffe suddenly felt like a demon servant with a street rat master.  
  
“Of course,” Rex nodded. Rex thought of himself as a benevolent leader, able to show teamwork.  
  
“Great,” Wolffe smiled, showing teeth, but not using his eyes in the expression.  
  
–

  


Bothawui  
  
Rex politely gave his credentials and waited to be let in. He was used to being kept waiting, so, he told himself that was why he was so caught off guard when he saw her.  
  
She opened the door panel and Rex suddenly found himself standing, “My Lady.” Rex wondered why in all the blessed galaxy he was talking so fast and loudly. Just something about her. He felt overcome.  
  
She went right over to him and looked up. Rex was amused to see how small she was. On all the holo-screens she was larger than life.  
  
“Rex, we were so worried when we heard about Specter 1,” she hugged him, but formally. Like a princess would. “Is Hera alright?” The junior Senator Organa looked him in the eyes seriously.  
  
“She will be,” Rex answered honestly.  
  
“My father sends his greeting,” she raised a holo-viewer and his message appeared.  
  
“As you know, we never have a lot to spare that will not be noticed. However, my daughter has brought some power generators, Imperial grade medications and clean water at least. I’m going to miss you my friend. Until we meet again. May the Force be with you.”  
  
Rex looked at the Princess. He struggled to make himself converse normally, but whatever he did, he couldn’t seem to, “My Lady, I thank you.” Rex cringed internally. He sounded like General Yoda, or worse, maybe like that character from the holo-novela. And how the hell did she become HIS lady all of a sudden.  
  
She smiled like people acted this way around her all the time. She looked down a little shyly.  
  
Rex thought it must have been hard. People always acting like they knew you because they felt like they did.  
  
She grabbed his hand into hers, looked straight into his eyes, smiled again warmly and said, “Please don’t call me that, I hate that.” Then she hooked his arm with hers and led him over to the crates she’d brought.  
  
Rex was amazed. Some might have thought that what she had just said was insulting. But he didn’t feel insulted. In fact it surprised him how much more it made him love her.  
  
–  
  
She ordered around her people to load his ship for him, then to make sure it was full of fuel and maintenance checked, then she had someone make a run to go get some food. Rex hadn’t ever been able to say much, the Princess had done all the talking. It actually hadn’t stopped. She had funny stories about everyone. Then she hooked his arm and led him to his ship herself.  
  
“My father told me how happy he was that you weren’t dead,” she joked. Rex suspected there was an anecdote there, but he honestly didn’t have time to hear them all.  
  
“Well, it was touch and go for a while,” Rex joked back, staying vague.  
  
“He says you served him in the Clone Wars?” The Princess used the standard terminology they probably used in her royal household. Still, it rankled Rex a bit.  
  
“Yes, as he was a member of the Senate and one of the People,” Rex paraphrased the Loyalty Oath a little. The last time he’d actually said it had been a long time ago.  
  
“There is a contact we’ve been trying to make. My father is wondering if he could discuss it with you when you get back from Lothal?” she kept her tone friendly.  
  
“I...uh, don’t know when that’s gonna be. We aren’t working on any kind of timeline that I know of...” Rex tried to find an excuse. They might die on Lothal. Or, best case scenario he would have to take care of his brothers. He wouldn’t be able to take any secret missions for a while. But he’d made his choice. The Ghost crew was as much family to him as his own brothers. Family needed him now.

  


\--

  


Rex supposed he and Senator Organa were friends. Every time he saw him, he got the sense the Senator was trying hard. Rex wanted to trust him, he did.  
  
Still, Rex had always said to Wolffe that he didn’t think Senator Organa had ever realized how spectacularly his attempts to get to the bottom of the conspiracy to bring down the Republic had backfired.  
  
Organa thought that the Jedi Purge had not been a reaction to an attempted coup of the Republic by the Jedi, as official findings declared. Yet, he hadn’t come forward with his own evidence, if he had any. And his attempt to break the conspiracy had focused on Clone Commander Cody, as he seemed to believe that Cody at least had been in on it. He had underestimated the clones’ ability to close ranks, especially when they felt threatened. No brother contradicted Cody’s story, though they all knew the truth.  
  
Clones had learned early that it was them versus everyone else; the cloners, their violent trainers, the people of the Republic who enslaved them. Cody had known that if given a choice, the oppressors close ranks to scapegoat the most vulnerable. Every jang knew each other was all brothers had. The sham of a senate trial over the Purge just proved to clones once again that nobody else had their backs.  
  
Rex didn’t want to be rude to Organa by bringing it up, though. But it was why he didn’t tell Organa what he knew.  
  
Most clones had been largely unaware that they’d been mind controlled into executing Order 66. Though there were rumors, no solid evidence had ever come to light. Such a revelation would change history. Rex knew the Emperor was invested in discrediting anything that would tell the truth. Rex was one of only a few people alive in the universe who knew this truth. He was possibly the only one in the universe who could prove it. 

  


\--  
  
Agent No-mo (as Gregor called him, since he wasn’t one no mo’) called the Kwymartown police from a position a few clicks west of Tunko’s. Because he was a white human with a Core accent, they hated him but they did what he said. He demanded they come out to help him.  
  
They asked what he needed. Kallus said there were people eating nearby and they were being very loud.  
  
“Eating?” the police thug asked.  
  
“And being loud,” Kallus had his doubts about the script, but Wolffe gestured from beyond the range of the holo-com's range of vision for him to go on. Kallus cleared his throat.  
  
“I mean, they are too near our station, it’s very rude and I don’t appreciate it,” Kallus started nibbling on the scenery. Wolffe got eye contact with him and gestured for him to go bigger, “I just can’t with this!” he shrieked.  
  
“Okay, we’re sending a squad out,” the cop sounded a little exasperated, but he’d do it.  
  
The squad showed up and Wolffe and the others stunned them the minute they arrived. They tied the cops up and left them there.  
  
The police would either get loose or they’d get eaten by the vultures. Same odds as any other day on Seelos, really. 50/50. Wolffe decided that was the kindest route. 

  


\--

  


Gregor stormed up to Tunko’s gate leading Hondo.  
  
“Why are you bringing this...thing, Razor?” Tunko asked as he let them in.  
  
“Razor?” Hondo shouted, “That’s the coolest clone name I’ve ever heard!”  
  
“Wait for it,” Wolffe whispered to the earpiece in Hondo’s ear.  
  
Gregor spoke the lines he’d memorized, “I found this piece of filth out wandering in the wastes. I’m sure he’s got a record. That’s got to be worth at least some money. Just give me some water and I’ll let you have him, you can turn him in to the Imperials for the bounty yourself. I’m not a bad person, I’m just desperate.” Gregor didn’t sound desperate. Quite the opposite.  
  
Hondo shook his head. Clones all seemed to use the same script. He felt he was being type cast.  
  
The police closed in around him from around the yard. Kallus had sneaked in wearing a police uniform while the crowd watched the drama unfolding loudly. He stayed near the gate.  
  
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Kallus muttered over the coms.  
  
A policeman brought over a droid who scanned Hondo’s face. His extensive record came up right away, with all kinds of flags.  
  
The chief of police drooled, “Wow, that’s quite a bounty.”  
  
“Those are just things I was ACCUSED of doing. Accused doesn’t mean I did,” Hondo screamed.  
  
Everyone there bet he did.  
  
Kallus moved over to the controls to the gate as everyone around was watching the show. They got ready to switch the things off when they got a chance.  
  
Wolffe was keeping the walker hidden behind a dune, but ready to rush the place once he got the signal.  
  
The police readied to scan Gregor’s face.  
  
“HEY! It’s HIM!” one policeman yelled. “BIGGUS DICKUS!”  
  
“You’re damn right!” Gregor shouted.  
  
Kallus shut off the security fence and the AT-AT shot a hole in the new patch for the cheap cement. People screamed and scattered. The walker walked to the gate, since the rubble was not appropriate terrain for their type of feet.  
  
Melch worked the guns, shooting anyone in a cop uniform. The rest of the group started shooting them on the ground. Wolffe wondered why nobody his brother hung out with never set to stun.  
  
When all traces of the police were obliterated, Gregor’s group walked the scene, making sure everyone was alright. There were casualties. Mostly injured. But people looked grateful.  
  
Tunko went to Gregor, “Well, now that they’re gone, I guess you’re in charge.”  
  
Technically, they did have the biggest guns. Those with the most guns and most money had been eliminated.  
  
Gregor said another prepared speech, “You’re free now. You don’t need leaders this time.”  
  
“You mean you don’t want to be in charge here?” Tunko asked, already plotting for his own place in the hierarchy.  
  
“Hell no. Just treat people better in the future around here okay,” Gregor ad libbed.  
  
“What will we do?” Tunko asked.  
  
“Rebuild. You have water. That’s something. You have each other,” Wolffe said his own lines.  
  
“We’ll starve,” one guy spoke up.  
  
–

Youpee station with the one good restaurant

  


The door to his office slid open and the commander of the warehouse stood to berate and underling for disturbing him. But his protocol droid informed him that someone was at the entrance.  
  
“ISB!” Kallus shouted convincingly, because of course. “Imperial inspection.”  
  
The commander felt a little piss run down his leg as he thought to himself, ‘Maclunky’.”  
  
He hit the door panel to the facility and he found the walker and it’s guns on the other side.  
  
Kallus and his ‘Inspection Team’ confiscated just about everything portable as they turned the place over. Gregor took particular joy in smashing the place up. He hadn’t had a good trespass and vandalism since he’d lived on Coruscant. Which he vaguely remembered for some reason. It had something to do the state of being high on spice that connected the two, he thought. 

  


\--  
  
The people of Kwymartown were so grateful for the food that they insisted on installing the landing platform on the walker for free.  
  
“Shame about the one good restaurant,” Wolffe was eating ribs over the fire that night back at Tunko’s.  
  
“Who cares? I’m not coming back to this planet,” Hondo was devouring food and licking his fingers sensuously.  
  
“Me neither,” Gregor shook his head. Then he leaned over and whispered to Wolffe, “Does he have to chew with his mouth open, it’s grossing me out.”  
  
Wolffe patted Gregor on the shoulder and wandered away from the main hearth in Tunko’s courtyard. He leaned against a post and lit up some of the herbs.  
  
Mahti finally found him. They’d been avoiding each other. Wolffe didn’t want to presume he was allowed to speak to her after how he acted the last time he saw her. He didn’t really think she actually liked him very much. He hadn’t really been able to give her much reason to. He was ashamed of who he’d been.  
  
“Thanks for what you did. Helping us,” she sat down on a step of a staircase that led up to the higher levels of the scaffolding in one of the work tents.  
  
“I couldn’t just let it be. Not when I could do something about it,” he told her honestly. His hands were still shaking from the battle. But it hadn’t stopped him. It had all just come back to him. He was surprised how quickly his heart rate had returned to normal.  
  
“It’s just weird, seeing you like this. I didn’t know you cared about anything,” Mahti looked at him for the first time with any kind of actual respect.  
  
Wolffe nodded. He thought of the last time a girl had actually looked at him with anything but pity. That hurt like a dull pressure against his chest. He found himself thinking about Coruscant.  
  
Wolffe rubbed his face hard with his hands. “Look, I’m not being who I want to be here,” he lowered his hands and looked her in the eyes, “But I’m trying to be better.”  
  
“I understand,” Mahti looked at him as if he was exciting.  
  
Wolffe was unused to it. He was a clone. Conformity does not breed excitement. Most people had assumed they were interchangeable.  
  
Mahti knew this was not a reunion, it was farewell. It was a shame, Mahti thought, nice men were in short supply. She insisted Wolffe stay with her, since she decided Hondo looked like a serial murderer and she wanted the protection.  
  
Wolffe didn’t know why it was so easy to seduce women with a little kindness. He’d found that sometimes he did it accidentally, as kindness was mistaken for caring. He gave in more than he should, because he was only human. And he wanted to feel good sometimes.  
  
Wolffe held a sleeping woman in his arms for the first time since...oh it had been a while. He couldn’t help but feel like a long missing part of him was very close. It was scratched up and damaged, but recognizable. It was shining like a kyber crystal in ice and he felt the frustration that he had no implement with which to pick it loose.  
  
Wolffe sighed and tried to let himself slip away into the delights of his subconscious. Another world. Another time. Things he might have done differently. Things he wished he’d known then. Embarrassing silly dreams of somedays gone.  
  
But also...realizations. There were a hell of a lot more things that he would never change. He found himself wondering why he was so ashamed of himself all the time.

  


–

Rishi

  


Niki was lying in her own bed. Expensive bedding with high thread count covered plush pillows and soft down duvet. Her weighted blanket. She kicked around at the blanket trying to find a position that balanced between temperature regulation and ventilation. She had dreamt, as she usually did. She didn’t mind the dreams, though some were bad. Some caused panic attacks. But she was used to those. She could get through those on her own after years of practice.  
  
It was insomnia she feared.  
  
That being stuck on the razor thin web between conscious and subconscious. Where the rational mind overran her dream world with all too realistic cares.  
  
A doctor had prescribed her something once to help her sleep. It worked about as well as herbal tea and a shot of whiskey.  
  
Wolffe had been prescribed the same medication that half the army was taking, but that stuff made you somnambulate or weirder. Wolffe used to wake up and walk around, doing the things he normally did, like shower or vacuum. More than once, she found him eating. Sometimes she’d find him sucking on her breasts, but it was nice, so she just let him get on with it. One time he climbed into the closet to protect himself from some hallucination. It was enough for her to know she didn’t want to take that stuff he was on.  
  
One hit off the spice pipe did the job better, and even if she didn’t sleep right away, her subconscious turned the tide and overran her mind with animated flights of fancy.  
  
When Sotna was young, they’d slept and waked as they felt like. Niki wasn’t a parent who had a lot of rules. Ice cream and a soda made as good a dinner as any.  
  
When she craved structure, Sotna spent her childhood in Cody’s home, where she had lots of love and kids to play with and all the home cooked meals she wanted. Lina was actually good with children.  
  
Niki needed the mental break sometimes. Work was stressful, millions of people depended on decisions she made. She had complete autonomy of judgment. That could be scary. She often needed some quiet time for reflection. Sotna just wanted a place where she could be a kid and go on picnics and climb trees.  
  
As Sotna got older, she was prepared to take on more responsibility herself, she even took care of her mother. It was work that kept their hours for them. Sotna served as direct liaison between her and the queen. Sotna was the only one Niki trusted to tell her the truth about whether other people were deceiving her. Sotna could see through walls, practically, right into people’s heads. Niki didn’t trust anyone but her daughter to truly help her.  
  
Now she was going to be left. Sotna got that refugee scholarship and was going to hone her espionage skills as a dormitory RA for the Legislative Youth. She said it was her goal to work in intelligence gathering, so she needed to meet the ‘right’ class of people. Damned Cody.  
  
Niki finally opened her eyes, turned over on her back and stared up at the mirrors on her ceiling. She looked herself in the face and pouted critically. The countenance was not one of a person who was fine.  
  
The features were all as nice as ever. But she wore more cares now. They read mostly in the eyes.  
  
She closed her eyes and breathed. Now that she was alone, she was ready for controlled catharsis. She was ready to cry.  
  
She pictured Wolffe, with Rex beside him. She imagined Rex would be caring and attentive. But unperturbed by Wolffe feeling sorry for himself. Rex wouldn’t have carped at Wolffe or been unkind, the way she herself might have. She tried to imagine Wolffe beside Rex, breathing his last, but having someone to hold his hand and cry for him. She pictured Rex kissing him on the forehead and saying something like, “The mission’s accomplished, brother,” or some other such trite jang-ey drivel. Niki tried to conjure a peaceful image so she could make herself accept it. But for some reason, her imagination wouldn’t let her see it. To her surprise, once she started thinking about Wolffe, other thoughts would jump out at her in her stream of consciousness as if she was running the gauntlet of a cheesy haunted house. She found herself laughing as if tickled by the memories as they surfaced.  
  
Of a first love. The kind you can have when you’re young and stupid and still able to give into daydreams.  
  
She got up and put on a robe. Her protocol droid came in as soon as her feet hit the floor. “Anything right now, Ministra?”  
  
“Play me some music,” she said and headed off to go soak in her tub.  
  
–  
  
Coruscant- First year of the war-

  


“So how you doing there, Commander, you alright?” she the green Twi’lek laughed.  
  
She had just been telling a funny story and he had paused in their walk, doubled over laughing. She stood still because her heels were dangerous to be drunk in.  
  
He recovered a little and stood, then halfway collapsed with a clatter of armor components, bracing himself against the wall of a building. He leaned and looked up at the lights of the buildings above them. “I feel like this should be one of those moments from one of those musical holo-vids.”  
  
“You like those?” she went nearer.  
  
“Yep. We watch them with General Plo,” he was still giggling a little.  
  
“So how do we do one?” she leaned her body against his flirtatiously.  
  
“Some witty repartee, the music swells and then we both know the words and harmonies and choreography to a song and dance number. Suddenly, a walk home becomes a spectacle with rising string instruments. Feelings are expressed through contrived musical numbers! Everybody can dance! Everyone sounds beautiful!” Wolffe closed his eyes, trying to picture it.  
  
“What do you wanna sing? I’m sure there are songs we both know,” she posed.  
  
“I can’t,” he remained immobile.  
  
“If people think you’re crazy, who cares? So they think you’re crazy?” she raised her chin a little in challenge.  
  
“I meant, choreography. I’m too drunk to care if I’m crazy. But if I tried to dance, I’m pretty sure I’d break an ankle or something,” Wolffe explained.  
  
She laughed. She didn’t know other people who talked like this. A person with an imagination. She wasn’t used to being around people who were any fun before. At least not for her. “Well what else happens?”  
  
“Come here,” he whispered to her.  
  
She did, smiling up at him. She had the upper hand, so no fear.  
  
He moved slowly, to make sure she knew what he was about to do. He placed his hand gently on the back of her head, just at the base of her lekku. Gently, he drew her head forward. He gave her time to refuse. He didn’t lunge at her. He didn’t lead with an extended tongue like a Hutt, or rub his crotch against her the way humanoid men tended to at first opportunity. He just slowly leaned in and kissed her sweetly on the lips. It had all the tentative hesitation and innocence of a boy. His body temperature warmed with embarrassment.  
  
Niki was confused. They’d had sex once for kark’s sake, drug fueled, uninhibited sex. Why did that feel different? Why was everything all backwards with this guy?  
  
No mouth kissing was a rule in her transactions.  
  
Pity overwhelmed her. She could have left it lie...but when she could have backed away and thanked him and left. Rules were rules.  
  
But it had felt nice.  
  
She suddenly had an impulse and kissed him back. Before she realized it, their lips were parting. Why not? She had fantasies she wanted to live, too. She giggled internally to herself. Who was she hurting? 

  


–  
Coruscant, Near the end of the war  
  
Niki emerged from the shower. She’d allowed herself some tears there, where they would wash.  
  
Karking scumbag. She didn’t need him, she felt a strange relief knowing that she didn’t need to even think about anyone but herself. They both knew she’d been carrying them for years.  
  
Too bad he’d been such a defective piece of garbage. It just figured. Anyone who’d respect and admire her would be a loser.  
  
But it had been nice to have someone who always looked at her like that. After a day of looks of threatening lust or disrespect, it was nice to have someone who wanted to give her nothing but kindness. It had just been such a comfort to come home to someone who looked after her needs. A foot rub, a hot meal, a bit of fun. It made her want to be kind. And she had found that once she started being kind, she had so much love to give, it had surprised her. She hadn’t known that about herself, what she would do if she could ever make decisions based on more than her own survival. She, herself, had chosen to be loving. She had liked herself that way. That person, that feeling, she didn’t know if she’d ever get back. It was just over. Ripped out of her like a stolen organ.

  


  


Mandalore  
  
The ‘Intelligence Service’ were escorted back to their ship. Fenn Rau made sure they left the planet. He probably didn’t want them looting any more dead people’s clothes and shoes.  
  
As soon as they were to safe airspace, they sent an urgent message to Cody on Rishi.  
  
“What news?” Cody was in his office at home, on the highest story. He was holding his tooka, scratching her neck while she purred loudly.  
  
“The droid! The droid told Rau, Rex had mentioned living on Saleucami,” Stabbi pointed at it.  
  
“Yes, I sent you the coordinates. You’re going there next, do you have a clothes washing machine?”  
  
“No! Listen! The droid said he’d also been to a place called Seelos. Telling stories. About his brothersssss,” Vic put on the appropriate emphasis. “We’ve been through all the files, the droid didn’t catch what their names were.”  
  
“I think I’d better get there as soon as possible,” Cody put the tooka on his desk. She was not happy.  
  
“Oh, that’s nothing,” Goran shouted from the background, “Guess who Rex is working for?”  
  
–  
  
Rishi

  


Niki didn’t much care for the interruption, “What?!?” she yelled from her tub at the banging at the door panel.  
  
Cody stayed on the other side, “There is a new lead on Rex. I’m headed out now.”  
  
Niki got out of the tub sopping wet and hit the panel on the door. It slid open and she was dressed only in bubbles. She just did it to make sure Cody was well trained enough to keep his eyes on her face. Which he did.  
  
“I’m going with you,” she grabbed a towel.  
  
–


End file.
